


out of your reach

by mayuaka



Series: your spirit lies with mine [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, i steal the parts of crisis core i like and ignore everything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayuaka/pseuds/mayuaka
Summary: “This is Cl—um, his official name is Strife. He’s going with us.”He was older, clearly. Sephiroth didn’t know how much time had passed. He wore the standard infantryman uniform. His hair was spikier, now without the ponytail. His eyes were still the same brilliant blue that he remembered, widening in awe.Sephiroth gave a small smile. “Strife,” he repeated carefully, never taking his eyes off Cloud’s.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair & Sephiroth
Series: your spirit lies with mine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784065
Comments: 12
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

A week.

That’s how long he lasted before the discomfort of _existing_ settled into his essence too deeply to be ignored and forced him to return to Cloud. He dreaded what the Shinra magicians would do to him. He had no doubt that they were still trying, futilely, to resummon him—he would only be in the Lifestream a short moment before they tried again. With an internal sigh, he flew back, found the house he was looking for, and circled around to search for the right window. 

Cloud was laying on his bed, asleep. (He looked so serene, Sephiroth almost didn’t want to disturb the peaceful innocence of it.)

He tapped on the glass with his beak. Cloud shot up, eyes wide and darting around frantically before landing on the crow outside his window. He relaxed, got up, and let Sephiroth in.

Sephiroth settled on the edge of the bed, claws gripping the wood. “You may dismiss me.”

“Can I...ask you something?” Cloud had the same look of awe from before that made Sephiroth want to answer him. 

“What is it?” His claws tapped impatiently.

“Is that your true form?”

_Oh._ Oh. He laughed, genuinely. (He hadn’t done that in a while.) Cloud looked confused, then irritated, crossing his arms. “What’s so funny?”

“Cloud,” he said, like he was savoring it, “My true form is not anything you would ever need—or want—to see. I can change into whatever I like on the visible planes.” 

“Oh.” Cloud dropped his arms and moved closer, studying him. “So you could become human again right now?” 

“Yes.”

“Will you?”

The crow’s beady eyes stared back at him. Then they were bright green slits, and Sephiroth sat on the edge of Cloud’s bed in human form, as perfect as he’d been a week ago. It sent a twinge of exhaustion through his essence, though he humored the child. He even manifested the wing for him—functionally useless, but incredibly impressive looking. (It’s not like he was _trying_ to show off. Being looked at with reverence instead of fear for once stirred up an emotion he did not bother to name.)

Cloud lifted a hand and looked to his wing. “Can I touch it?” 

Sephiroth nodded his assent. Cloud reached out to the feathers slowly, like they might disappear at any moment. (They could, but they stayed solid and soft.) Fingers brushed through the feathers, and he forced his heightened sense of danger down. It was almost overwhelming, and he felt everything slipping away—no threat of pain or discomfort on the horizon.

Cloud withdrew his hand, cheeks slightly colored.

His essence tugged at the edges once more, eager to rejoin the Lifestream. He took a metaphorical breath and grounded himself again. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Cloud said. “Um, how exactly do I dismiss you?” 

He sighed, loudly. “Repeat after me.” Cloud did, with a few stumbles here and there. The words felt both disgustingly familiar and foreign to him, although there was no way he’d ever forget them (not that any part of his memory ever faded). 

“Can I see you again?” Cloud asked, even as Sephiroth felt the pull of the Lifestream deep in his essence.

“I would advise against it,” he managed to say, before Cloud vanished completely, and he drifted off into the amorphous, endless sea of intermingling essence.

* * *

The feeling of being resummoned _again_ almost made him regret the week he’d spent Shinra-free. His whole essence _hurt,_ like he’d been hit straight on by a Firaga and then stabbed multiple times with a silver-coated sword. He didn’t have the mental faculty to maintain any sort of solid form, let alone human, so he became a quiet wisp of blue-green essence and hoped silently no one would notice.

A Shinra magician sat in the pentacle across from him. Their eyes were half-closed and they were still repeating the summons quietly. Sephiroth simply let himself float, and rested for a few blissful minutes.

Then the electronic door to the summoning room slid open. He startled, and the wisp soared into the air. _Fuck._

“You idiot! He’s there!” It was Hojo. Also very bad. The magician jolted and stood up, nearly tripping out of the pentacle (oh, Sephiroth wished they had). They took out a piece of paper and read the charges. He listened very, _very,_ closely for slip-ups.

“...You will remain in the previously specified human form at all times unless threatened with death. You will not harm any living being or object under any circumstance unless later specified. You will not…”

If he were currently a human, he might have accidentally grinned. He was a wisp, though, and only floated slightly upward. _They’d missed the lying clause._

He tuned the rest of it out in favor of considering how to be as vague as possible about why exactly they were unable to summon him for a week. 

“Who summoned you?” Hojo snapped, as soon as the poor magician had finished. “And shift. Now.”

Sephiroth did. If the face was less sharp or the hair was less silky smooth, Hojo did not comment. “The magician over there, of course.”

“Who summoned you one week ago, after I dismissed you?”

“A human.”

“Describe their physical features.”

He shrugged. “The human wore a robe and a mask.”

“What did this human order you to do?”

“Kill some spirits.”

“What were the names of these demons?”

“I don’t know. I don’t normally ask for names when I’m about to kill.”

Hojo sighed in exasperation, realizing he wouldn't be getting any concrete answers. For a moment, Sephiroth was triumphant.

Then his whole essence _burned._

He resisted the human urge to scream and cast Blizzara as quickly as he could. It put out the Firaga instantly, but to put it bluntly, everything fucking hurt, and—

Hojo cast it again.

He screamed. Then he heard shouts from beyond, a voice from the hallway, before his consciousness faded away completely.

* * *

He woke to a large, blurry dark spot in his vision.

“Hey. You okay?”

Slowly, everything came into focus. He was still lying on the floor of the summoning room. His clothes were burnt at the edges, and the smell of ash was everywhere. An unfamiliar human (or at least one he hadn’t bothered to remember) stood next to him, blue eyes scrunched in concern. He wore the standard uniform for Shinra’s highest level magicians.

Sephiroth pushed himself up, forcing himself to stand even as his essence wobbled a bit at the edges, and readjusted his form. “Who are you?”

“I’m Z—I’ve, uh, been officially assigned to you. With everything that happened with Genesis and all—”

“What happened with Genesis?” he demanded. The human had almost slipped up, which meant that Shinra must have been desperate for magicians these days—which was certainly worth questioning, but the more pressing matter now was that he had clearly missed something during his week of absence.

“They didn’t tell you? He escaped with Angeal, and a bunch of other guys deserted, too.”

“Escaped?”

“I...don’t know anymore than that.”

He was either lying (very likely) or Shinra was keeping everyone except the highest officials in the dark (also very likely). Spirits didn’t just _escape._

Sephiroth almost felt betrayed, but he was the one who’d just disappeared for a week. Genesis must have been biding his time, waiting for the best moment—right when the entirety of the magic department had suddenly been allocated to summoning Sephiroth. It was the perfect opening, though he had absolutely no idea what Genesis had done; perhaps Angeal had killed his summoner. 

(He wanted to lament the loss of a friend. Few spirits had any, because although they might often see each other, it was hardly ever on the same side of whatever petty human conflict was happening. No one else had been subject to the same disgusting, glorified violence that Shinra painted for them at the frontlines of Wutai. He was glad Genesis had escaped.)

“What is your charge?”

“I’m not actually—well, I’m just supposed to watch you. In case something happens.” The human ran a hand through his ridiculous black spiky hair and looked sheepish.

“Is Shinra honestly so understaffed that _you’ve_ been assigned to essentially babysit me?”

“Hey! I just got promoted to 1st Class, I’ll have you know. I’m perfectly capable of handling a demon.” Sephiroth expected him to reach for the sword on his back, but all he did was continue looking mock-offended. This was good. He had leverage.

“Really? I haven’t even heard of you before.” He took a step forward.

The human startled, but did not step back. “I’m—shit, stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to trick me! It’s not gonna work.” He crossed his arms and glared.

Sephiroth wanted to laugh. This was so much better than the labs or the infantrymen following him around carrying guns equipped with silver-coated bullets. “If you’re going to be watching me from now on, you might as well introduce yourself. It’s not quite fair that you’re so familiar with my name while you won’t even give me your fake one.” He smiled, sharp as that loathsome sword he was forced to use in battle.

“Fair,” he said.

“...what?”

“It’s Fair.”

“That’s a terrible joke, you know.”

“It’s my last name. Now we’re even.” The human grinned like he was proud of himself. Sephiroth couldn’t imagine why.

“When I am held here against my will? With no protections against whatever”—He gestured to the charred tile on the floor—“you might decide to throw at me?”

“Is that what it is?”

Sephiroth simply stared back at him.

“I mean, is that why you need my name? To protect yourself?”

He didn’t even _know._ “I thought you were a highest level magician.”

“I’m not. I’m SOLDIER,” he said, as if that explained everything. When Sephiroth continued to glare at him, he went on, “The magic department does all the complicated summoning stuff. We just use the Materia they give us. Or get assigned to demons like you, I guess.” 

This...“Fair” human had just revealed way more than Sephiroth had ever been allowed to know. _Of course_ no one except the magic department had the means to control and summon, simply using the impression that the “soldiers” deployed knew what they were doing. He should have looked into it more...even Angeal might not have known all the details. All these years, and he could have acted so much sooner. It didn’t matter. He would act _now._

“It’s an exchange,” he explained. “Your name for my obedience.” (The missed lying clause was everything here.) He waited for the human to refuse, to remember the minimal training he must have at least had to not tell Sephiroth his name immediately, to perhaps drop an act and cast Firaga.

“Zack.”

“Zack Fair,” he almost sang, taking a step even closer. His essence still ached, but he felt as invigorated as when he was soaring over the mountaintops. 

“Uh, yeah?”

“I think we’ll get along very well, Zack.”

* * *

Things went well, or as well as they could. He bided his time to get closer to Zack, prodding gently at lifelong Shinra propaganda to make Zack come to the conclusions himself. Meanwhile, no one questioned either of them because of how well they worked together. The truth was that spirits were more likely to cooperate if you treated them like companions instead of servants.

“There’s no word on Genesis, but this was the mission he and Angeal were on when they disappeared,” Zack said as they laid in wait a ways away from the Wutai fort they were supposed to invade.

Hopefully, that meant they were still evading capture rather than already dead. 

“You were...concerned about him, right?” Sephiroth turned to look at him. Zack tilted his head, gauging his reaction.

He bit back his surprise. “I do not wish for any spirit to serve humans. Especially not Shinra.”

“Yeah, well,” Zack said, looking back to the fort, “I can’t dismiss you, either.” His tone was light, and coming from anyone else it would have been cruel, though Sephiroth suspected it was serious.

“You’re doing much better than most humans,” he offered, testing the waters. 

“At controlling you?”

“At not being an asshole.”

Zack laughed softly and didn’t look at him. An explosion sounded in the distance, shaking the ground beneath their feet. “That’s our cue.”

Sephiroth nodded, and they set off to charge the front gate.

The last time he had truly fought side by side with humans—or rather, the Cetra—had been millenia ago. Fighting _with_ Zack brought up echoes from the past he had thought might never happen again. He cast Manawall on the both of them and weaved his way through the spirits, trying to avoid situations where he would be forced to use his sword. Well-aimed spells were usually enough for the lesser spirits Wutai controlled. Zack sliced through them without a second thought.

“I feel like I never see you use that,” Zack said as they cleared the last of the spirits in the area. (Sephiroth would have preferred they just killed their summoners instead.)

“Even though I do not make direct contact with the blade, it is still uncomfortable to hold.”

“Why do you have it, then?”

“Unfortunately, Shinra discovered that it is the most effective weapon against spirits. I am required to use it if needed.”

Zack paused, then asked, “Can I tell you not to use it at all?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I charge you to not use your sword, at all, unless you want to.”

Sephiroth smiled. “Very well.”

Zack grinned back. “Alright, let’s finish this.”

There were two spirits, more powerful than the rest (though not anywhere close to him), guarding the main building. Their forms were large and horned, typical for their type, slower and not very intelligent. He focused on one while Zack took the other; he let himself run on pure instinct as he dodged spells and threw his own back. 

Something thudded against the wall. Sephiroth soared gracefully through the air, reluctantly drew the sword, and blocked the strike from the other spirit mere moments away from killing Zack. Its essence disintegrated, reformed, and disintegrated again as he began to fight with his full strength, ignoring the pain in his own essence. When the only sign left of them were transparent blue-green wisps in the air, he dropped the blade on the ground and flew over to Zack, who lay injured, still gripping his own sword. He landed gently on the floor and cast Cura.

“Thanks, Seph. Sorry about that.” Zack smiled sheepishly and took Sephiroth’s offered hand to help him to his feet. 

“...Seph?”

“You always get this weird look on your face when I say your name, so.” He shrugged and looked at Sephiroth for approval.

_Oh._

“It’s the name thing, right? Am I right?”

(His essence felt hazy at the edges, though distinctly different from the call of the Lifestream. Instead of a mild ache, it was soothing.)

Zack’s eyes were so bright.

Then they fell. “Hey, if you don’t like it—”

“I do,” he interjected, and Zack’s grin was back in full force.

“Okay, Seph. Let’s get you back and dismissed, then.” 

* * *

Investigate Mako Reactor 5 and capture the demon known as Genesis. Capture 1st Class SOLDIER Angeal, or kill if necessary.

Zack said, “I don’t—” at the same time Sephiroth declared, “We’re going to fail the mission.”

“... _can_ you?”

“If I’m incapicitated and they happen to get away, yes.” 

Zack shrugged. “If you’re sure. I don’t want you to...get in trouble.”

He’d been adamantly _not_ thinking about that part. He had never failed. He wanted to be selfish, but he owed Genesis too much. “You’re concerned about me?”

“I…” Zack trailed off, and Sephiroth could tell he was thinking of when he’d first found him lying on the floor. A human with a conscience, though only for a spirit as humanlike as Sephiroth. “Look, I don’t want to kill Angeal, either.” At Sephiroth’s questioning look, he explained, “He was my mentor.”

“He didn’t teach you about spirits?” 

“...No, he didn’t, actually.”

Loyal to Shinra in that respect, but Angeal had helped Genesis escape anyways. He was still hoping they wouldn’t run into them at all, though he was curious. They stalled for time, lingering just long enough to not be suspicious in each room of the reactor.

Zack’s footsteps stopped. He stopped, too, and turned around.

“Tell me. About Genesis.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I know he was assigned to Angeal. But you weren’t specifically assigned to anyone before me, right? So why was that?”

“He was…” He glanced around, trying to think of how to say as little as possible while still technically being the truth. There was a stack of folders on a nearby table, next to a suspicious-looking metal pod. Instead of answering, he picked up a folder and opened it.

_[ μ ] - εγλ 1990/08/11_

_Subject G successfully summoned within human host._

“Seph?”

_Human host._

“What is that?”

“Just old documents.” 

They hadn’t found a way to perfect a permanent summon; they had allowed Genesis to completely take over a human host. The degradation wasn’t his essence slowly returning to the Lifestream—it was his essence destroying the human cells. 

He set the folder down. He didn’t need to keep reading to figure out what else had happened, and he didn’t want Zack to see it, either. 

Zack was persistent. “Aren’t you going to tell me?” 

“Of what concern is it to you?”

“I just want to understand why Angeal left,” he admitted, quieter. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “Let’s just get going.”

They didn’t find anyone else there, whether they were just very well hidden or already gone. They doubled back in silence, and Sephiroth would have normally welcomed it, but the contrast in Zack’s demeanor was jarring enough for him to feel on edge instead. Zack delivered their report, they parted ways, and he was dismissed as normal for the day.

Even as he sunk into the calming rush of the Lifestream, a sense of foreboding settled across his essence.

* * *

“Hey, Seph.” 

He nodded back. Zack looked...worse than when he last saw him. Something was clearly off. He waited until they were out of the summoning areas within the magic department, back in the main building on their way to transport, before asking, “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re there, I promise,” Zack said hastily. He looked past Sephiroth, and suddenly brightened. “Hey!” he called, waving. 

Sephiroth turned to see who it was.

“This is Cl—um, his official name is Strife. He’s going with us.”

He was older, clearly. Sephiroth didn’t know how much time had passed. He wore the standard infantryman uniform. His hair was spikier, now without the ponytail. His eyes were still the same brilliant blue that he remembered, widening in awe. 

Sephiroth gave a small smile. “Strife,” he repeated carefully, never taking his eyes off Cloud’s.

Cloud flinched in surprise as Zack threw an arm around his shoulders and whispered loudly, “Don’t worry about him, he’s way softer than he looks.” To accentuate his point, Sephiroth grinned and briefly changed his incisors into fangs. Cloud scowled at him.

A touching reunion. For the moment, whatever Zack had meant to tell him slipped his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my sephzack bias got in here huh... anyways time for Shit to Happen next chapter :^) thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

“You okay?” Zack placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll...be fine.” He tried to focus his gaze on the horizon outside of the window and steady his breathing. Inhale, exhale. Zack squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“This is a waste of my time,” Sephiroth muttered, seated on the other side of Zack. “They could’ve just summoned me there. Or we could have flown.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you not to drop me to my death.”

Cloud risked a glance over at Sephiroth. The demon was still...well, the same. His arms were crossed, a slightly amused look on his face. Then another wave of nausea hit him and he turned back to the window. 

“Tell me—”

“Not now,” he heard Zack interrupt.

“When was the last time I was summoned?”

“It was, uh, four or five months ago.”

“What?”

“There’s...a lot to explain.”

Cloud shifted slightly. “What happened?”

“It’s top-secret, sorry.” Zack shrugged and didn’t elaborate. 

Five months ago...he’d first met Zack on the mission to Modeoheim, and then he’d gotten knocked unconscious for most of it. They were supposed to be investigating the facility for something; he didn’t remember much of it. He hadn’t even known Zack and Sephiroth worked together until now. Why hadn’t Sephiroth been there?

Sephiroth. He had wanted to see him again. He had wanted to become strong, powerful enough to summon him again. Instead, he failed to make SOLDIER and was currently trying not to vomit.

“So,” Zack said, smoothly changing the subject, “you grew up in Nibelheim, right?”

“Yeah.” He looked back over to face him, and was met with Sephiroth’s inhumanly bright green eyes. “I left around a year ago.”

“How ironic.” Sephiroth’s smile was almost unnerving, but he forced himself to not look away. He thought of soft, black feathers. He could see it—the pentacle on his bedroom floor, the demon inside of it, ready to—

“What? Have you been there before?” Zack asked, breaking Cloud out of his oddly vivid reminiscence. He blinked and only saw the car’s interior in front of him.

“Once,” Sephiroth replied, with enough finality that Zack didn’t question him further. Cloud breathed out a quiet sigh of a relief.

The rest of the trip was mostly uneventful. Zack tried to keep him distracted by continuing to talk, and he felt himself ease into it. Sephiroth stayed so quiet that the feeling of surprise-awe-anxiousness slipped his mind for the moment. When the car eventually came to a stop, the demon looked deep in thought.

“Finally,” Sephiroth sighed, immediately getting up and stretching. He moved to open the door.

“Wait,” Zack said, stepping in front of him. “I don’t think you should just go out like that.”

“Think I’ll scare the townspeople?” Sephiroth’s eyes shone with amusement. “Are you giving me permission?”

“Yeah. Change into whatever nonthreatening thing you want.” 

There was a cat curled up on the floor of the vehicle, with silvery-gray fur and green eyes that seemed to glow. Appropriately, they were cat-slit. It let out an impatient _meow._

Then it jumped directly at Cloud.

He yelped as claws scratched briefly at him before somehow managing to gather the cat in his arms, while Zack absolutely did not help by laughing at him. It meowed again, content. The creature was warm, its fur endlessly soft, and he had an inexplicable urge to cradle it against his chest.

Zack leaned over to pet it. It proceeded to attempt to bite him, hissing. “Hey! You can’t do that.”

It was Cloud’s turn to laugh at his expense, and they exited the car together. He set the cat gently on the ground outside.

As they neared the entrance, Zack slowed his steps. “Hey, you wanna check up on your family, right? We aren’t gonna head out until tomorrow morning. Seph and I’ll be at the inn.” Zack smiled warmly at him, but he felt like there was something off about it.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Okay.” Zack nodded and continued in the direction of the inn, cat following close behind.

He breathed out deeply and let himself look around. Things were pretty much the same, down to the water tower where he’d made his promise to Tifa—he didn’t want to see her, or rather he didn’t want her to know he’d failed, almost didn’t want to be here at all. Zack had personally asked him to come with him, and then he’d told Cloud about Sephiroth; there was no way he could have refused. 

He would go see his mother. He owed her that much.

* * *

Staring at his old bedroom floor hard enough, he could almost make out the hastily drawn chalk pentacle on the wood, as if it had left a permanent stain. He wished he was back there, still full of determination and dreams and wonder.

He laid back on the mattress, though he knew he probably wouldn’t be getting any good sleep tonight. His mother had welcomed him as if he’d never left, didn’t pry too much, and cooked him the best meal he’d had in a long time. He really didn’t deserve it, coming back like this, only to have to leave the next day. 

He turned on his side, stared at the floor some more, then suddenly remembered the old book hidden in the back of his drawer. He dug it out, flipped to the marked page with the pentacle on it. 

He had tried to summon Sephiroth again about a week after he’d dismissed him, but it hadn’t worked. Then he actually read the whole thing and realized that it was impossible to summon a demon if it was already under someone else’s control, so he must have just gotten lucky with the timing. He sighed and replaced the book in the drawer. 

He could have tried a different one. The truth was that he was scared. Sephiroth already knew his name. He barely knew what he was doing; he would certainly get himself killed. And again, there was no point anyways, he wasn’t fighting a war or saving anyone.

Zack spoke to Sephiroth like equals, like _friends._ He wanted that—the power at his fingertips, but also a companion. He lost himself in a mix of self-pitying thoughts and disappointment, too restless to sleep at all.

Something tapped at his window.

He shot up, hand flying to his side for a rifle that wasn’t there, then spotted the cat perched on his windowsill. He got up and opened it.

“Cloud,” it greeted him, landing gracefully on his bedroom floor. It didn’t open its mouth—the voice seemed to emanate from the general direction of the creature.

“Sephiroth, what are you doing here?”

“Hmm…” The cat flicked its tail. Sephiroth, now tall enough that Cloud had to look up to face him, stood in his room again. It felt much too familiar. “That’s better.” 

“Why are you here?” he repeated.

Sephiroth considered him for a moment. “You still remember how to summon me, correct?”

“I...yeah.” For some reason, the runes, the words never faded from his memory, like they were taunting him.

“After we return from this mission, at some point, Zack will give you a signal. Summon me then, and as long as you can complete the summons before anyone discovers you, I can protect you from whatever happens afterwards.” Sephiroth’s expression was deadly serious.

Cloud stared at him in shock. “You’re asking me to—”

“This is not a request. I have your birth name.”

“Which is why I shouldn’t be summoning anything at all!” he nearly yelled, and then said, quieter, “You’re trying to escape, right? I can’t just—”

The demon’s voice took on a dark, chilling tone. “I _will_ destroy Shinra. You do not need to be concerned about that.” 

He paused, backpedaled. “Zack...agreed to this?”

“Yes. Ask him yourself.”

Zack...hold on—“Wait. How do you know his name?”

“He told me when we first met, of his own free will.”

“You—” He took a deep, shuddering breath. Too many thoughts raced through his mind, only half-processing what Sephiroth was saying. 

“If you do not do this, I will ask Zack to summon me. It will put him at even greater risk, which I assume you do not want.”

“I need to ask him myself. For all I know, you’re lying.”

Sephiroth nodded. “I will see you tomorrow morning, then.”

Before Cloud could get in another word, a blur of silver leaped onto his windowsill and back out into the night.

Sephiroth had to be lying. Zack was going to betray Shinra? What had Sephiroth convinced Zack to do? He trusted Zack, but to assist a demon? He wanted to storm over and ask for answers _now._

Demons were liars, too dangerous for the public to know about, only delegated to experts at Shinra. Sephiroth hadn’t killed him the first time. Sephiroth was asking to be summoned again. If whatever he was planning worked, he would be under Cloud’s control.

The frustrated, cynical part of him wanted that, didn’t care that Sephiroth could counter him with his name. He’d accepted a long time ago that he couldn’t become strong enough, but then he’d met Zack, and now this opportunity was left in front of him, so perfect it had to be a trap. Escape with Sephiroth, and then what? Get abandoned and killed? 

He wanted to trust that Sephiroth would protect him. He wanted to do something that reckless to prove himself. He wanted to trust Zack’s judgement, if it was true. 

Somehow, he fell asleep imagining it. Black feathers, green cat-slit eyes.

* * *

The sound of glass breaking startled him awake. Light was just beginning to appear above the horizon, casting small shadows across the room. He bolted upward, turned to look—

“Sleep, Cloud,” a familiar voice whispered, and everything went black.

* * *

“Cloud! Cloud, can you hear me?” 

He heard a faint shout. Everything was hazy and slow. The cold harshness of the ground dug into his back. His limbs felt so heavy, impossible to move.

“You. Insufferable human. Why do you still fight?”

“What did you do to him?”

“I can kill you as quickly as the townspeople. Drop your weapon and your death will be less painful.”

“I _trusted_ you! Sephiroth! Why did you—”

“Quiet.” A pained yelp, a shout of indignation.

He managed to turn his head, blinking as his vision slowly came into focus. Zack...it was Zack collapsing on the ground next to him…

“Cloud,” he gasped. “Cloud, I’m sorry.”

So much blood was everywhere, leaking steadily from a wound in Zack’s side. A long, thin sword clattered to the ground, covered in it. 

“Zack…?” His voice cracked, could barely be heard.

Zack mouthed, _Go. Kill him._

He needed to...needed to…

His arm. Needed to move it, needed to grasp the hilt of the sword.

“Mother, we are alone now, with the vessel. Shall we proceed?”

He pushed himself up with a hand. His legs shook. The sword nearly slipped from his fingers.

Sephiroth’s back was to him. Dimly, he realized they were in the mako reactor, on a pathway leading up to a large tank Sephiroth was in front of. Something seemed to be inside, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He half-walked, half-stumbled forward. He raised the sword.

Sephiroth turned.

The silver-coated steel slid through the torso of the demon, was drawn out, and stabbed through again. The demon fell back from the force of it, and it became easier. The give felt like flesh, but it kept reforming and no blood seeped from the wound; the solution was to continue. Again, and again, until the sword seemed to be piercing a thick sludge-like substance, slow and resistant, until the form of the demon could no longer hold together, bursting into flashing turquoise shards. 

The scream ringing in his ears was his own. Only when he could no longer lift his arms did he finally allow the weapon to drop from his hands. His body collapsed to the side, every limb numb with exhaustion. His eyes slid closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seph's pov up next!! thank you so much for reading <33


	3. Chapter 3

“So,” Zack said when they’d gotten upstairs and Sephiroth had curled up on top of one of the beds. He sat down on the other. “They really didn’t summon you at all before this?”

“No.” The cat’s ear twitched.

“That’s...are you gonna stay like that?”

He changed, his head resting against the pillow. He turned on his side to look back at Zack. “Do you dislike cats?”

“No, I just feel weird. Telling a cat this, I mean.” Zack ran a hand through his hair and stared into his lap. “Sometimes I forget—”

“That I’m an evil, bloodthirsty demon?”

He laughed at that, but still refused to look at Sephiroth. “Yeah.”

Silence fell between them. Sephiroth waited. Humans could be so delicate with their emotions in such contradicting ways.

“I got sent on another mission to find Genesis. And I did. Angeal was there, and a former Shinra magician who said something about degradation and pure essence samples.”

That already didn’t sound good. “Essence samples?”

Zack looked up at that. “You never told me. About Genesis.”

Sephiroth nodded. “First, what happened?”

He took a deep breath, exhaled, steeled himself. “I...I had to kill them, Seph. I couldn’t…” His voice wavered, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m sorry. Even after we tried avoiding it for so long—I guess they got suspicious and didn’t have you come with me, and I—I told Genesis I wasn’t going to fight him but he obviously didn’t believe me, and Angeal—he said he was too guilty of being compliant to live on. I don’t—I don’t know, it all got swept under the rug and I don’t know what they’re doing, sending us out here all of a sudden.” He said it all in a rush, shaking, on the verge of tears.

Sephiroth sighed. He should have assumed the worst when Zack had refused to tell him all this until now. It had always been futile to think that Shinra would let one of their most prized _possessions_ slip from their grasp. “Angeal was assigned to Genesis because they somehow figured out how to perform a permanent summon. Neither of us ever knew the details of it, but they were actually trying to hide the fact that he was summoned within a human host. They didn’t have any real control over him.” He paused, and added (just for Zack’s benefit), “I assume that Angeal felt guilty because he could have helped Genesis escape years before then.”

“Angeal…” Zack murmured. He took a moment to compose himself, and then asked, “A human host? They can do that?”

“Yes, though in most cases the spirit completely overwhelms the mental faculties of the human.”

“Huh.” He stared at Sephiroth like he didn’t quite believe what he was saying, then threw up his hands. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore. Let me help you escape, or whatever. Whatever I have to do.” His eyes narrowed in resolve.

Sephiroth smiled. “I have a plan."

* * *

Night had fallen, and for a few hours he simply laid there, running through possible backup plans and piecing together the layout of the Shinra building. He could sneak Zack into the magic department easily enough, and then once he was dismissed, Cloud could summon him. He probably should have let Zack explain it himself, but he was too restless to wait. Even now, he was overthinking every single possible detail. 

That’s when he remembered their current assignment—investigate the mako reactor in Nibelheim and eliminate any hostile spirits in the area. It was awfully suspicious; why stop summoning him for months and then send him on such a simple mission? Zack could have done it by himself. 

He certainly wasn’t going to sleep. He opened the window, changed into the crow, and flew out into the mountains.

It was almost nostalgic, gliding through the air, a bit more polluted than several years ago. He savored it as much as he could, circling a few times before landing at the foot of the reactor. Unfortunately, he had to change back to human form to open the door.

The moment he stepped inside, something shifted.

A clear, familiar presence shimmered throughout the building, oppressively so. Something was off. He took cautious steps forward. 

There were more mysterious pods here, similar to the ones in the other reactor. If he squinted, he could just barely make out a human-like shape in what he presumed to be essence—or processed essence, mako. Beyond them was a staircase up to a large door.

“Well, if it isn’t you.”

Sephiroth turned immediately, ready to attack—Genesis stood before him, his form clearly deteriorating. The hair was nearly white, even the edges of the coat were graying, and his single wing protruded from his shoulder, unable to be dissipated. Sephiroth relaxed. “You aren’t dead?”

Genesis laughed at that. “It would take a lot more than a single human to kill me, I assure you. Are you here for Mother as well?”

“Mother...is here?” That was it; the overwhelming feeling of pure essence permeating the room. If she was here, that meant...

“Did you not feel it? Is that not why you came here?”

“I was sent here. By Shinra.”

“Interesting. Though, it no longer matters. Shall we?” Genesis gestured to further inside, a large door on the back wall.

He could end this right now, without the need for any risk, without depending on two humans that could betray him at any moment (though it was incredibly unlikely that they would). It was too much of a coincidence that Mother was here, of all places, after being hidden for so long...was that why he was sent here? But why would Shinra sabotage themselves? Was it a trap?

“There is still...something I must do.”

Genesis scrutinized him, then decided not to ask. “Hm. I certainly won’t stop you.” He walked past Sephiroth, waving a hand. “May we not cross paths in the mortal world for the next few centuries, at least.” 

The door shut behind him with a _clank._

Why was he hesitating? He paced back and forth for a bit. If he disappeared now—what would happen to Zack and Cloud?

The aura from behind the door beckoned.

He owed them nothing. He owed _humans_ nothing.

Stepping further into the interior of the reactor only intensified the feeling of pressure all around his essence. The pull of the Lifestream heightened from a mild, tolerable ache to a stabbing pain, pushing him forward. The smell of mako permeated every part of the room. Turquoise lights danced across his vision as he moved closer, one step at a time.

Then he saw her.

Trapped in a tank, sealed in all the monstrous, elegant, grotesque glory of her true form—bathed in mako and surrounded by tubes, hundreds of runes etched perfectly into the glass. 

_My son._

“Mother…”

The edges of his essence blurred. He placed his palms on the glass, clawing at the runes, trying to get closer, closer. The pain of existence slipped away; this was where he was _meant_ to be, where he needed to be…

_You are freed of all previous charges._

“Thank you, Mother.”

_I took pity on the one before you—he was suffering so much. But you—you are perfect. I see you have gained the trust of two humans. Bring the one who summoned you before to me._

Images flashed before him: the human, summoning him; the human, as a vessel; the human, as a means to bring such destruction to the Planet to end their suffering, their servitude to humans. 

He would be perfect. He _was_ perfect. He would take revenge for Mother, imprisoned by such cruel means, reduced to only a fraction of her power. He had found her and answered her calling. He would succeed.

The crow sailed through the night as dark as its plumage and landed on a certain windowsill.

* * *

He placed the human gently on the floor, just inside the door leading to Mother. It would not do to harm the body he would control. Before that, though, he would destroy the surrounding area. No other human would find her.

Although he was freed, he had taken human form to carry the vessel more easily. It was the easiest to use after all these years—something _humans_ had manipulated him into. It did not matter. Soon, he would erase the ache of manifesting physically by using the vessel.

It was a simple task, though it pained him to leave Mother again. A few powerful Firagas ensured the flames would spread quickly enough to kill efficiently. He paid little attention to the screams that echoed out, the shouts and cries of the dying, turning back towards the mountains.

“Seph! You—did _you_ do this?”

He paused in midair.

_You always get this weird look on your face when I say your name, so._

_It’s the name thing, right? Am I right?_

He continued, gliding even faster back towards Mother. He ignored the shouts that seemed so, so familiar. 

The vessel was where he had left it, still comatose.

_He looked so serene, Sephiroth almost didn’t want to disturb the peaceful innocence of it._

He studied the runes on the glass tank carefully. The mechanism was irritatingly complicated, but it seemed to be aimed at keeping the target from dismantling it rather than stopping outsiders from doing so; the counter-spell would be simple enough for him, at least. He ran the words over in his mind, double-checking the glass as he went. It was only a matter of time before—

“Seph?”

Why had this human followed him? He needed to kill it quickly and free Mother. He cast Firaga, but it leaped back with a strangely inhuman speed. 

“I thought...I really thought we were going to work together. And honestly, you seem off right now.” It drew the sword from its back. “But I guess I have no other choice but to fight you.” It charged at him.

_“Zack Fair.”_

(Why did he know…?)

Zack stumbled back from the force of the counter-spell, and Sephiroth took advantage of the opening to draw his own sword to deliver a swift strike at him. Zack barely managed to block it, metal screeching across metal, jumping back towards the door.

There was a quiet groan from the floor.

Zack looked down to his side and finally noticed Cloud, immediately kneeling down to check on him. “Cloud! Cloud, can you hear me?” Cloud’s eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused.

_Focus on your goal, my son._

The human stood up again, readying its sword, glaring at him. 

He advanced. “You. Insufferable human. Why do you still fight?”

“What did you do to him?”

“I can kill you as quickly as the townspeople. Drop your weapon and your death will be less painful.” 

“I _trusted_ you! Sephiroth! Why did you—”

“Quiet.” He thrust the blade through human flesh this time, drew it out and let it clatter carelessly to the ground. He no longer needed such a weapon; soon, he would have the Lifestream itself at his disposal.

He walked carefully back to the tank, where he had been so rudely interrupted. “Mother, we are alone now, with the vessel. Shall we proceed?”

_Yes. You are doing so well._

He began the counter-spell for the seal on the tank, eyes closing in concentration. Soon, she would be free—they would all be free, finally—

A distinct, threatening presence was behind him, he turned and—

His own blade stabbed through his essence, tearing at it mercilessly. He was too caught off guard from focusing on the spell—needed to change into something smaller—searing pain shot through him again and again this was impossible somehow he looked up up up into bright blue eyes so filled with anger, so beautiful, he felt like it was important, the pieces of him were slipping away so quickly.

As his vision faded he remembered: _Cloud._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> third (and final) work will be next, so subscribe to the series if you'd like!! thank you so much for reading, as always!


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